


Go Amongst Mad People

by KeevaCaereni



Series: Madhouse!AU [1]
Category: That Guy with the Glasses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Horror, Body Horror, Gen, Gore, Madhouse!AU, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeevaCaereni/pseuds/KeevaCaereni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoony was committed on the 8th May. Scarlett visits him every week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt on the kinkmeme. _Mental home AU, with Ask That Guy and Insano as the main doctors. Any kinks are awesome (although, yes, having restraints involved would be nommy) and it can be as dark/cracky/porny (or all three!) as you want it. XD_

“How is he, doctor?”

The doctor looked at her gravely. “I’m afraid he’s gotten much worse. The attacks of paranoia have become much more severe in recent weeks. He actually seems to believe that this hospital was created by the makers of Pumpkinhead 2 to destroy him. His delusions of grandeur have also worsened. Last week he proclaimed himself to be the king of the internet.”

Scarlett bit her lip before asking, “Can I see him?”

Doctor Insano frowned. “Are you sure you want to? We’ve recently started him on some new medication and he’s not yet acclimatised. He may be slightly… disorientated.” He stopped as she shook her head.

“I don’t care, I want to _see_ him.”

Insano sighed. “Very well.”

* * *

He looked dishevelled and tired, slumped against the gurney as they wheeled him in. His arms were pinned to his sides, but he was making a valiant attempt to gesture with them anyway as he rambled. He’d grinned at her when he saw her, and she was momentarily hopeful that he’d gotten better, before the usual rant started.

“But they won’t win, you know, the fucking game didn’t beat me and these guys won’t either. Paw knows, he knows and won’t tell, you should ask him.”

Scarlett butted in when he took a breath. “You know this is all in your head, right? The doctors are nice people; they’re trying to help you.” He snorted before continuing on his tirade.

Ask That Guy bent over and said quietly, “The division between reality and fantasy is breaking down in his mind.”

“..and they’re trying to get me I hear them at night, they’re trying to _get me_ Scarlett they won’t stop and the noise is everywhere, it’s the noise, the noise is…” The man strapped to the gurney shook his head wildly. “Can’t you hear it? That’s how they’re doing it, Scarlett, you can’t trust them, it’s in the food and the water and the walls, the noise is everywhere.”

“Your presence seems to be upsetting him. Perhaps you should leave? It would be better for him.”

Scarlett looked at her boyfriend, hair greasy and eyes wild, flecks of spit on his chin as he raved.

“Perhaps I should.”

The man on the gurney roared as she got up. “No no no Scarlett don’t leave you’ve got to _believe me_ it’s the noise you can’t trust them, the noise is how they’re doing it Scarlett NO!” She walked out as the orderlies opened the door.

“Scarlett no, listen to me _ask Paw_ , he knows, wait no, SCARLETT NO COME BACK!!”

Spoony raged against the restraints as they wheeled him away.

 

* * *

The orderlies wheeled him into the back room, still swearing violently, propping the gurney against the wall before removing the restraints and cuffing him to a pipe. He could move a little ways away from the pipe, but he was still tied down. Still trapped. God-fucking-dammit, why hadn’t Scarlett believed him?

The orderlies had moved on to Angry Joe, trying to get him to stop thrashing long enough to strap him onto the gurney. Joe snarled and bit the nearest one, taking a chunk out of his hand. The orderly swore and punched him in the face, but Joe didn’t seem to notice.

On the other side of the room was MikeJ calmly sipping tea and staring into space, as though there wasn’t a man frothing at the mouth and being strapped down across from him. Then again, Mike never did anything but stare and drink tea anymore. Film Brain was laid on the floor next to him, colouring in one of those picture books his friend with the orange hair brought him. Linkara was still absent, but he was probably still resting after a bout with Insano.

A few more people were around, most either sat twitching or looking very intently at _the monsters ohgod they were back and they were going to eat him, eat them all._

Spoony held his head in his hands. He wasn’t crazy. He knew he wasn’t crazy. The monsters weren’t real and the only reason he was seeing them was because of the fucking doctors. He breathed out and chanced another glance up.

 _Phew._ They were gone. They were gone, but Spoony was still trapped in the madhouse. He’d tried to warn Scarlett, to tell her to find a way out of this mess, but all his words had gotten mixed up in his head and he’d sounded crazy. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

He didn’t look up as the orderlies dragged the gurney out of the room. He didn’t want yet more evidence that he was losing it for real. No matter how many times he told himself that he wasn’t mad, that Insano and Ask That Guy were up to something involving the noise, things that he _knew_ , there was a little voice in his head that told him he was going loopy, that _normal_ people weren’t convinced that their doctors were trying to kill them, or worse.

Knowing Insano and Ask That Guy? It would be worse. If it was even real.

 

* * *

He finally looked up from the floor several hours later. The voice in the back of his mind had finally shut up for a while, and he’d been enjoying the quiet of the room. When Angry Joe was brought back he’d shout for long enough to give everyone a headache, but for now it was bliss. Well, as much bliss as you could get trapped in a madhouse against your will. Even the noise had stopped.

The door behind him opened and he turned his head reflexively. _Shit_. The doctor was there, along with two very burly orderlies. He pulled frantically at the cuff on his wrist. Insano showing up in the back room never meant anything good.

The orderlies grabbed him, holding him still when he tried to struggle. The doctor knelt down in front of him and grabbed his chin, pulling his face up so Insano could check his eyes.

“Fuck, it wore off already…” Insano muttered, looking disappointed. “Ah well, bigger dose next time!” He pulled out a syringe full of blue liquid, the same kind that they’d been injecting him with all week. “Be a brave boy and you’ll get a lollipop, isn’t that nice?” he grinned.

Spoony flailed wildly, but the orderlies held him down as Insano injected him with the serum. Fog filled his vision as he slumped against the pipe, Insano’s nightmarish grin the last thing he saw.

 

* * *

When he woke up the monsters were back and they were in his brain and they snuck in through his eyes and his ears, they were in the _water_ noise and the _WATER_ noise was everywhere, suffocating him, forcing itself down his throat and up his nose, into his heart and into his head and through him, taking his plans and his ideas and turning them into weapons, using them to shred his skin from the inside out.

The water was ice cold he knew but it felt _like burning_ and he gasped as they pulled him back out, he wanted the heat, the heat would burn away the monsters underneath his skin. His arms were pinned so he could not scratch them out and he could hear screaming coming from somewhere, loud but not loud enough to mask the noise, droning on and on like a siren, and the monsters that were outside of him were coming closer, claws ready to rend him limb from limb, to pull out his eyes and pop them in wet bursts, and leave him in shreds on the floor.

It was only after, when his throat was raw and his voice was hoarse, that he realised it had been him screaming.

 

* * *

Spoony woke up in his cell utterly exhausted, feeling like he’d not slept in a week and not eaten in a month. He sat up gingerly, pulling the chain on the collar around his neck to its fullest extent, and groaned.

“Feels like getting the heck kicked out of you, huh?”

Spoony looked up to the next cell over, where Linkara looked like a drowned rat, hunched over onto the bars and dripping on the floor. Some of the drips left suspiciously dark stains on the floor, and there were red trails running down his shirt.

“What the fuck-“He swallowed, trying to ease the pain in his throat. “What did they do to you?”

Linkara winced, cocking his head at a weird angle. “I got the water treatment too, and then Ask That Guy got bored, so he brought out the knives.” He shuddered involuntarily.

Spoony just gaped at him before lying back down on the bed, chain clinking away. He gazed up at the ceiling, at the cobwebs in the corners _an eye and a claw they were here too watching and waiting and_

 _Fuck_. He squeezed his eyes shut and spoke. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He could barely hear Linkara’s agreement over the rushing sound of the noise.

 

* * *

In between long hours of “treatments” and delirium, they tried to figure out a plan for escaping. They watched the others and saw that Angry Joe calmed down enough to reason roughly six hours after an injection. They kept their eyes open when they were taken from their cells to the doctors’ offices, looking for an external window or a way out, but no dice. Linkara, figuring that getting them to drop their guard might be useful, played nice for Insano, convincing him that the shocks and the serums had taken their toll, that they’d finally broken him. He’d come back wincing in pain, and Spoony decided he didn’t want to know how he’d done it.

They were in the back room, huddled in the corner, pretending to play cards, while Spoony told them about his latest meeting with Scarlett.

“So then she looked at me like I’d just called her mother a bitch and left,” he concluded, looking at his cards. “Insano shot me up before I went in again, so I wasn’t making much sense. But I definitely told her about Paw again, and eventually she’ll talk to him. She has to.”

Linkara looked sceptical. “She’d better. I haven’t had any visitors since Pollo stopped coming after they said I’d been talking in my sleep about dismantling him to find out if his soul really was blue.” His eye twitched briefly.

“How do you even know that he knows what’s going on?” Angry Joe asked.

“Because a few weeks before I was committed, he showed up at my house looking twitchy. Asked me if Insano had been up to anything dodgy, injecting me with anything. I told him Insano was always up to something, but it’s not like he ever did anything that actually worked. Paw…he looked really bad, dude. He was shaking. I asked him what was up, but he was really cagey. He asked me if I’d seen the Critic recently before he left, but I hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks.” Spoony frowned. “I wonder what happened to him.”

“He’s probably in here too. Ask That Guy wouldn’t be without his favourite chew toy.” Angry Joe shrugged. “I’ve never seen him around, though.”

“Me either.” Linkara agreed. “Paw must be going crazy right now.” None of them saw the irony.

Spoony just nodded his head. He thought hard as they drifted away to separate corners of the room, conversation over. If the Critic was in here, then why had nobody seen him? And he had another problem: if he wasn’t crazy, then why did he keep seeing things, even when the serum had worn off? A part of him wanted to ask if the others were going through the same thing, but something was stopping him.

He shook his head. The sooner Scarlett talked to Paw, the better.

 

* * *

Scarlett sighed before knocking on the door. She shouldn’t have come. She was actually listening to her insane-to-the-point-of-institutionalisation boyfriend. What did that say about her?

She debated with herself some more about whether this was a good idea while waiting for Paw to answer the door. Then she stared.

Paw was a mess. His hair hadn’t been brushed, he had great bags under his eyes and his headphones were skewiff. He looked at her blearily before wheeling around and going back inside, leaving the door wide open. Well. That worked as an invitation.

She followed him into the living room, which was covered in pictures of the hospital Spoony was in, along with scribbled drawings of what looked like something out of Resident Evil and the odd picture of the Nostalgia Critic. She frowned. _I didn’t know they were close._

“What do you want, Scarlett?” Paw asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked like he’d not slept in a month.

“I want to know about the noise.”

Paw froze. He turned to look at her. “You’ve been talking to Spoony, then.”

She laughed bitterly. “You could say that. I’d say I’ve been listening to his mad ranting while he was _strapped to a fucking gurney._ It wasn’t exactly a two-way conversation.” She sat down abruptly on a chair.

Paw shuffled over and put his hand on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while until Scarlett lifted her head up. “Thanks.” she said, touching his hand briefly. “So, what’s the deal with this noise thing?”

“It’s a long story, and I only know a little bit.” he said, coming over to sit in the chair opposite her. “After Critic disappeared, I woke up one night with a track mark in my neck.” He showed her the scar it had left. “That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that I kept seeing monsters, everywhere, and they were looking at me like I was dinner. And there was this noise…It droned on and on. Sounded something like an air raid siren. It was creepy as hell. In the morning I thought I’d dreamed it, I mean, I’d not been sleeping well since the Critic vanished, but the track mark was still there, and…” He gulped. “The drug, whatever it was, had some…after affects.”

Scarlett looked down at her lap. Spoony was in there, and if Paw was right, the doctors were doing something to him. Something bad.

“Alright, so how do we get him out? You’re clearly planning some sort of break-in.” She gestured to the plans of the hospital.

Paw just shook his head. “There’s no way in. But I know a guy who knows a guy, and he reckons he can get one of the orderlies to let him out of his cell and get him through the back way for the right price. Then all we have to do is be waiting at the rendezvous point.” He scrabbled through the papers on the table and pulled out a scrap of paper with a phone number on. “If you go see Spoony in advance, let him know what’s going on, then he can help anyone else in there, and get out. The only problem is it’s going to take a lot of money.”

Scarlett just looked at him steadily. “How much money?”

 

* * *

Spoony was not alone. He couldn’t see anything in the dark, which was where he was, but he knew that the monsters were waiting. The cell he was in was empty, except for him and the monsters and the dark. He sat in the corner and counted bricks. _One, two, three…_ It was very important to count the bricks, _four_ because otherwise the snake in the centre of the room _five, six_ , would bite him and not let him have his Red Bull, _eight, nine, no, wait, seven_ and that would throw off his entire review schedule.

He’d been in here in the dark and the silence for ages, it felt like, and every time he closed his eyes the monsters crept closer, so he stopped closing them, stopped sleeping to make the monsters keep their distance, and then the noise started up again, only it was the snake making it, mouth open wide as the droning sound went on and on and on, cutting into his concentration and making him lose count. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had to keep count, had to hold onto _something_ concrete in this dark void but the snake was dancing now, dancing to the tune of a pipe and he leant back against the wall to watch it dance.

 

* * *

“When can I see him?”

“Miss, I’m sorry, he’s had a recent relapse, he’s not in very good shape, the doctor says he needs to rest-”

Scarlett tried to push past but the nurse stood her ground. “I’m afraid you can’t come any further without an appointment. You’ll have to come back another time, when he’s more stable.” She adjusted her bowtie nervously.

Scarlett sighed. “I guess you’re right.” She took a step back, before dodging around the nurse and running down the corridor. There was the back room down here, she knew it. She skidded to a halt outside a door with a pane of glass in it, showing a group of people sitting around. She could hear the sound of orderlies behind her, getting closer, but the door was locked and she couldn’t see Spoony. Fuck.

They caught up to her as she was rattling the doorknob one last time, grabbing her arms with a hint of violence. “Come with us, miss, please. Don’t cause any trouble.” Scarlett let them turn her around. She knew when she was beaten.

As they walked away, she craned her head around to look one last time for Spoony. A small movement caught her eye and she saw him sat at the other end of the room, looking blankly ahead. He looked like death.

Scarlett turned back and let them lead her out.

 

* * *

She waited until she turned the corner at the end of the street before pulling out her phone and dialling.

“Hello?”

“Paw, it’s me. They wouldn’t let me in to see him. Said he’d had a relapse or something.”

There was a pause. “So now what do we do?”

She sighed and leant back. “We’re doing it anyway. Tell your friend to let him out tonight. Make sure he tells him the plan. We’ll be there.”

She hung up and put her phone away, before setting off home. _We’re coming, Spoony._

 

* * *

Spoony was dozing fitfully in his cell after the latest treatment when he heard the rattle of a key in the lock, and instantly he was awake. He wasn’t getting caught sleeping like the last time, oh no, he’d had enough of Insano’s weird experiments after waking up with a scar across his stomach and a jar with his appendix in it on the floor next to him.

He looked up and saw one of the orderlies opening the door to his cell. He was chained down, so he couldn’t run, and the last “therapy” session had made him too weak to fight, but there was only one of them, and this was probably the best chance he was going to get, if he wanted to escape.

The orderly came closer and grabbed Spoony before he could do more than blink fuzzily up at him, pinning his arms to the bed. He struggled weakly, cursing his stupid weak limbs, trying to wriggle out of the orderly’s hold. He was still groggy from sleep, so it took him a moment after the orderly released him to notice that his collar had been removed. He stopped in the middle of a half-hearted punch and looked up at the orderly in confusion. _What the fuck?_

The man shoved a pile of clothes at him and dropped the keys on the bed. “Get dressed in those. Your girlfriend sent me to get you and your friends out. When you’ve let everyone out, head down the hall, to the left. There’s a locked door at the end. Use the silver key and you’re out. Your girlfriend will be waiting at the bottom of the hill. I’ve got to get back, the replacement will be showing up soon, so hurry up and get out of sight.”

Spoony gaped as he tried to get what was going on. He started pulling clothes over his scrubs as the orderly looked the other way. He stood up and followed the man out of his cell, across to Linkara’s cell, where his friend was sat bolt upright, staring at his right hand. He was struggling with the lock when the orderly started walking off, down the corridor. “Wait!” Spoony said. The orderly stopped and looked over his shoulder irritably at him. “Do you know where the Critic is?”

The orderly paled. “Trust me on this. You don’t want to find him. Get your other friends and get out while you can.”

Spoony looked at Linkara through the bars, eyes huge in a face grown thin from hunger strikes and abuse, and opened the cell door. “Tell me where he is, and we’ll do the rest.”

The orderly took one look at them, standing there in worn clothes, holding each other up, and sighed.

“When you go down the hall take a right before the exit. There’s a long corridor with a door at the end of it. The Critic is in there.” He shook his head before walking off.

The last thing he said before rounding the corner was, “Don’t get caught.”

 

* * *

They went to get Angry Joe out next, leaving the straightjacket on the cell floor. They tried to get MikeJ out of his cell, but had to flee when Joe smashed his teacup against the wall and Mike tried to rip him a new one. Bennett was still chained up in his cell, unconscious, and no amount of tugging on the clasps would budge them. Joe had dragged them away, swearing they’d come back and get everyone out. They couldn’t find the women’s quarters, and time was running out.

They decided to get the Critic and run for it while they still could, Spoony holding up the rear to keep up appearances. They’d gone pretty far in their attempts to free the others, and the orderlies were making the usual rounds. Making it harder to get down the corridor. It didn’t help that Linkara seemed to be having a breakdown of some kind.

“Can’t you hear that? He’s counting down! They’re coming, can’t you hear?” He’d curled in on himself on the floor, arms around himself protectively. Angry Joe was grinding his teeth at the delay, and Spoony was just as desperate to get out of there. Linkara’s ranting wasn’t helping; he kept fancying he heard shambling footsteps around the corner.

Spoony shook his head to dispel the paranoia and bent down. “Come on, man. We need to get the Critic and get out. Scarlett’s waiting. Trust me; you don’t wanna make her mad.”

Spoony wasn’t really surprised when Linkara didn’t laugh at his attempt at a joke, weak as it was, but he wasn’t expecting him to freeze like a deer in the headlights before jerking upright so suddenly that Spoony in front of him almost fell back in surprise. “They’re _coming_.” Linkara whispered, and suddenly it was like he was a different person, back the way he was before hospitals and serums and pain, and he was stood upright through sheer force of will at this point, but he didn’t look any less determined. “Can you hear that?”

Spoony could hear it now, beyond a doubt, footsteps coming, and nowhere to hide, trapped in a straight corridor with someone coming around the only corner and the three of them tired and sick and alone. _Some escape attempt this was_. “Come on. We have to move, now!”

They turned and ran down the corridor, trying to resist the urge to look back. If they could just get to the door, they’d be safe. The footsteps came faster now, and Spoony thought he heard moaning. He risked a glance back and almost fell down in horror. _Zombies. Dozens of them. Coming after them, relentless, unstoppable, mindless-_ He ran harder, pushed his body as far as it would go. They weren’t zombies. He was imagining things. Had to be.

Angry Joe was ahead of him and Linkara behind, running flat out to get to the door in front. Joe skidded to a halt before the door and jammed the key in the lock feverishly, turning it and pulling the door open. Spoony practically threw himself through to the other side and waited for Linkara to come hurtling through.

Linkara didn’t. Spoony looked back, and saw one of his nightmares brought to life.

They had hold of him now, gripping his wrists, pulling his arms behind him, _sinking blunt teeth into flesh, making him scream in agony, how had he not heard it_ , shoving a gag into his mouth, stopping the cries he’d not heard over the pounding of his heart, _ripping his jaw off his skull, leaving his tongue lolling grotesquely, reduced to moans from the back of his throat, he’d never critique a comic again, never sing_ , one of the orderlies backhanded him hard across the face, made him sag against the orderlies holding him up, _fell to the ground as they fell on him like animals, faces stained red with his blood_ as they dragged him back round the corner to his cell.

They turned to him and Joe, _blank eyes staring through them, some unknown sense locating their prey_ , the ones not needed to drag their prisoner away coming for them. Joe somehow snapped out of his shock long enough to slam the door shut, shove the key into the lock, turn it. They were safe, for now.

Somehow he didn’t think it would stay that way.

 

* * *

Joe leant against the door and slid down it, holding his head in his hands. He was muttering to himself, voice high and panicked, but Spoony couldn’t focus on what he was saying. He was coming apart at the seams, his best friend gone _devoured_ and it was just him and Angry Joe left, and Jesus Christ, was he ever going to see Scarlett again?

He stared at the wall blankly. The orderlies would be back. They’d drag him and Joe back to their cells, and pump them full of drugs, and keep them in the dark, and Insano and Ask That Guy would keep cutting out parts of them until they were nothing but a collection of organs, sat on a shelf somewhere. _And if that was what would happen to them, what would they do to the Critic?_

Spoony leant his head against his knees and tried not to cry. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He just wanted to go home, to sleep, to forget everything that had happened in this place. Give in. But then Linkara would have been captured, _killed_ for nothing.

He took a breath, dragged himself up. Angry Joe was still hunched in on himself clenching his fists against his face as he whispered threats and pleas. He walked over; put a hand on his shoulder. “We need to find the Critic and get out of here.” Joe stilled for a moment, before lifting his head sharply.

“Can you hear that?”

The orderlies were coming back. And they had a battering ram.

Joe took a look through the glass panel in the door, then shoved Spoony away from it, down the corridor that would lead them out. “Go on. I’ll hold them off. Get Critic and get out of here. I’ll…” He looked down. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Spoony stared at him. “Dude, there’s like, a dozen of them. I know you can hold your own in a fight when you’re pissed, but…”

Joe smiled bitterly. “I just saw them beat my friend to a pulp. Trust me, I’m angry. Go on.”

Spoony looked at him. “Thanks man.” He grabbed the other man’s arm, squeezed slightly. “I’ll see you outside, yeah?” The look on Joe’s face told him they both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He let go of Joe’s arm, limped down the corridor. Before he turned the corner he looked back at Joe, squaring up before the door. _And now you’re alone._

Spoony walked as fast as he could down the corridor. There were few lights down here, and he could barely see to put one foot in front of the other. He made his way to the end and hesitated before the door. _Who knows what the fuck is inside?_ Swallowing, he placed a hand on the doorknob and turned it before walking inside. He would find the Critic and get out of there, no matter what was inside.

 

* * *

The sight he was faced with was horrifying. There was a bloated mass of white flesh in the centre of the room, surrounded by the monsters, and _oh god_ , mewling, shrieking babies, flesh rotten and bulging eyes sticking out of monstrous faces. As he walked closer through the fog, gagging on the stench of rotten meat and shit, he saw that the pile of flesh in the centre was alive. Christ, this was a _person, monster, worm, run hide scream until your voice gives out before they do this to you too_. He walked around it slowly, stopping dead when he saw its face.

It was the Critic.

Spoony bent over and vomited on the floor. _This is what they’ve done to him?_ He looked up afterwards, wiping his mouth weakly, and was struck dumb by the look in the Critic’s eyes. He was still alive in there, still conscious, even as a boil on his side burst open to reveal another one of those baby things. Spoony gaped and stumbled backwards. Right into a human body.

Insano grinned at him. “Sorry to interrupt your little reunion, Spoony, but I was just coming to check up on my baby there.” He walked forward and bent to retrieve the nightmare that had burst out of the Critic’s side.

Spoony closed his eyes, trying to block out the images his mind was conjuring up. “What the fuck did you do to him?!”

“Now, that is a very good question.” He should have fucking known Ask That Guy would be here. Not as if this place wasn’t disturbing enough. He spun around to see ATG coming though the door _the only door, shit_ behind him, followed by some of the more menacing orderlies. “The truth is that Insano managed to create something useful for once! He engineered monsters that would feed on a person’s madness, eventually leeching their strength and leaving them a soulless husk. The only problem is, the poor fragile babies needed somewhere to incubate, with lots of food available.”

Insano laughed maniacally, still holding the baby like some warped fucking Madonna. “Fortunately, ATG had a pet that he didn’t mind breaking too much, and all I had to do in return was let him use my babies when they were all grown up.”

Spoony backed away, flinching as his bare foot bumped against one of the creatures on the floor. He couldn’t look at the Critic.

ATG kept moving forward, cutting a swathe through the hordes of monsters _shit even the monsters were scared of him, look, look at his grin, you’re dead, game over._ “They’re such entertaining pets. And getting their food was fun; most of you only needed a little push in the right direction.”

Insano looked thoughtful for a moment. “Dammit, you got us monologuing, didn’t you? We can’t have that. Nurse!”

With the monsters behind him and ATG and the orderlies in front, Spoony was trapped. He put up a fight as the orderlies grabbed him, biting and thrashing wildly but it was no use. They held him down as Insano injected the serum into his neck, then let him go, to slump to the floor.

He looked up at Insano, and saw his lips melt off his face, leaving him with a skeleton grin, the goggles melding into his face and swirling until he thought he was going to throw up from it. He turned his head to the side and saw the monsters advance as ATG whispered into his ear, sounding like a thousand insects buzzing. “Just remember, there’s no such thing as a stupid question, until _you_ ask it.”


	2. The Good Ending

Insano looked thoughtful for a moment. “Dammit, you got us monologuing, didn’t you? We can’t have that. Nurse!”

The red-haired nurse stepped forward, but paused before grabbing Spoony. “What are you doing, you moron? Grab him!” Insano shrieked.

Scarlett looked up into Insano’s face and glared. Then she punched him in the face.

Spoony just gaped. Clearly there’d been something extra in the syringe the last time Insano doped him. Meanwhile Scarlett was busy running her hands over the Critic and murmuring something as the swellings went down and he returned back to his usual skinny self.

“How in the flying fuck do you know magic? Why was I not informed of this?”

Scarlett rolled her eyes at him as she finished removing the last bump from the Critic’s side. “Paw found some pretty interesting stuff when he was looking for a way in here.” She helped Critic up, an arm around his shoulder as he groaned. Ask That Guy sidled behind them, reaching for the Critic, but Scarlett just _looked _at him over her shoulder and he backed off, hands up.__

“C’mon,” she said, shifting the Critic so she leant against her side, “Paw’s waiting for us with Linkara and Angry Joe outside.” She held out her spare hand to drag him up, and Spoony grabbed it, following Scarlett out the door to freedom.


	3. The Crack Ending

ATG kept moving forward, cutting a swathe through the hordes of monsters right to Insano. “They’re such entertaining pets. However,” he grinned, “They’re not as fun to break as him.” He pulled a knife and in one fluid motion, threw it at Insano, hitting him in the arm. He knelt before the Critic, running his hands over him and muttering something, before hauling the restored Critic over his shoulder and walking out. “Have fun with your toys!” He called over his shoulder as he went.

Critic woke briefly on the way to the car. “Whussgoinon?” ATG patted him on the backside and kept going. He’d find out soon enough.

 

* * *

 

Critic woke up for what felt like the first time in ages, stretched, and turned over. He opened his eyes blearily and nearly hit the deck as he found himself faced with a dead woman. A quick look around revealed several more young women and a few men propped around the room, and Ask That Guy on the other side of him, grinning while smoking his pipe.

Critic groaned. “Well, that explains the hookers,” he said as he fell back against the pillow, trying not to touch the corpse next to him. “Where the hell are we?”

“In Tijuana, naturally,” ATG said. He wriggled in what the Critic thought was glee. Must have been a hell of a party. “It’s the only place to go to have a debauched, drugged up orgy ending in the murder of hookers.”

He grabbed the Critic’s tie from where it was holding the dead hooker’s hand to the bedpost and looped it around his own neck. “Come on; you can help me dispose of the bodies.”

“I thought we were on vacation. I have to clean up the hookers at home,” the Critic huffed. He paused in the middle of trying to put his trousers on under the covers. “I had the weirdest dream. Like…” Ask That Guy was busy locating his pipe and ignoring him. “Never mind.”

He threw back the covers and went down to the lobby to keep watch while Ask That Guy dragged the corpses out the back.

 

* * *

 

The pregnancy had been as simple as a medical freakshow could be. ATG had given birth to a healthy baby boy, with a shock of black hair and piercing eyes. The nurse handed the baby to him before going to check on the mother/father/other parent.

He looked down at the baby, still trying to get used to the idea of being a dad, when he noticed a little mark along the baby’s hairline. He brushed the kid’s hair back and peered at the mark. _It couldn’t be…_ The mark looked remarkably like a pair of spiral goggles.

He dropped the baby in shock and then the nurse came and shouted at him for making a mess and the floor opened up and he was

falling

falling

falli-

 

* * *

 

Critic jerked upright in his bed, breathing hard and covered in sweat. He wiped his hand across his face shakily, trying to shake off the nightmare. The sheets were a tangled mess around his waist, and his pillow had fallen onto the floor.

Beside him Paw was laid on his stomach, gazing blearily at him. “Wassamatter?”

Critic looked down at his bare back. “Nothing, just a nightmare.” The details were already slipping away. All he could remember was being absolutely terrified. And something about Tijuana.

Paw groaned and rolled over. “Go back to sleep.”

Critic lay down and stared at the ceiling. Clearly he needed to stop eating nachos before bed. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Everything would be fine in the morning.


End file.
